


Jumper

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:24:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's cold, and Remus really just wants to put on his favourite jumper and read his book, but Sirius has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jumper

**Author's Note:**

> just some fluff :)

__

“Hey! That is mine.” Remus says, outraged. Sirius gives him a pleading look.

“It’s cold, Moony. Very very cold.” He exhales heavily, breath clouding in the air to demonstrate his point.

“Really, Pads? I didn’t notice. I was just coming upstairs to put on my favourite winter jumper for no reason.”

Sirius rests his chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. His hands are lost in the sleeves of Remus’ jumper, which is big even on him, and he’s got a few inches on Sirius. “It’s your favourite?”

“That is why I wear it approximately 97% of the time, yes.”

“It smells like you.”

Fuck. It hits him, suddenly. Sirius is wearing his jumper. Sirius is snuggled up inside the sweater that he wears against his own skin, their scents mingling, joining… for fucks sake, Remus thinks, berating himself. It’s just a bloody jumper, and this isn’t a mills and boon novel. Get your shit together.

“Better than smelling like you,” he says, offhandedly, trying to compose himself. Sirius stands fluidly, and he’s in front of Remus all of a sudden.

“That’s not nice,” he says. “I smell amazing.”

“Amazingly gross. Like wet dog.”

Sirius raises his armpit in invitation. “Smell me. I smell awesome. Nicked Prongs’ special shampoo and now I smell exactly like Christmas.”

“I’m not sniffing your armpit. And you’ll just smell like me _and_ James, and that’s a scent I never want to smell.”

Sirius gives him a sly look. “So… you don’t want to smell like Prongsy, but you don’t mind smelling like me…”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Give me back my jumper, asshole.”

“Shan’t.”

“Excuse me?” Remus says, and he can feel his eyebrow flying up so high it’s practically in outer space. Sirius grins, easy, reckless, challenging. Make me, that grin says.

“I’m cold, your jumper is soft and warm and smells really good, and I’m wearing it.”

“Are you.”

“Yes.”

“What if I take it off you?”

The grin grows wider. “Really? You’re going to wrestle me for it? Like we’re first years again?”

“I always beat you, remember.”

“Hey! I’m handicapped by a lack of werewolf strength.”

Remus takes a step forward. Sirius doesn’t step back. He pauses for a moment, considering. Fuck it. He lunges for Sirius, wrestling him backwards until they both collapse onto the bed in a heap. They scrabbled about for a bit, until Sirius manages to wrap his arms around him. Remus relaxes for a moment, nose pressed in Sirius hair.

“You know,” Sirius says, shifting a little so that Remus is more comfortably pressed against him. “If you stayed right here, we’d both be warm.”

Remus heart is pretty much jumping out from between his ribs. “I can’t fault your logic,” he says. It’s still rather have my jumper back though.” Sirius twists, so that he is facing Remus. Their hips are too close together for comfort.

“Really?” Sirius asks, eyes clear and grey and honest, all echoes of a joke gone.

 _No. Not really. Not at all. This is exactly where I want to be, but I can’t say that in case this is one of your fucked up pranks and Prongs is in the wardrobe._ He says nothing.

“Moony,” Sirius says. Remus shuts his eyes, the moment suddenly more intimate than he is ready for. Sirius arms are strong around him, hands splayed across his back, fingers just brushing the skin where his shirt has ridden up. Sirius hadn’t been lying; he really does smell like Christmas, fresh pine and cranberries and snow. Wizarding shampoo’s are an experience.

“Moons,” he murmurs. “You can… I mean, we… fuck.”

“Yeah,” Remus says.

“It’d be alright, you know. Me and you.”

Remus looks at him. “You reckon?”

Sirius smiles, bright with hope. “I reckon,” he says. “If… well… if you want.”

Remus lets himself smile a little. “Alright. Only if you give me back my jumper.”

“That bloody jumper,” Sirius says, and Remus laughs, and it’s comfortable again. “Alright. Give us a kiss first though.”

“Give us a kiss! Call Shakespeare, I think we’ve found a new bard.”

“What.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Nothing. A joke above your intellect.”

“I might have to reconsider this,” Sirius says, laughter written across his face, “You're way too mean to me.”

“Be quiet, you tosser,” Remus says, and kisses him.


End file.
